Southern California, 2047
Candys walked through the throng.
Her new legs added about a foot and a half to her height.
She hunched over in a failed effort make herself look shorter.
Her family had made the move as soon as the doctors had pronounced her fit for travel.
True to Mr. Cruces’ word no one had given them any trouble.
The flight was quick.
Minutes to go from the east coast to the west coast.
She had been a bit disappointed that her momma had insisted on the blackout travel option. It would’ve been cool to see what flying into near orbit was like.
Large bags filled to the brim on both shoulders felt light.
Fruits, vegetables and meats.
All organic.
Her momma was super excited about that, which she didn’t quite get.
Why wouldn’t they be organic?
“Oh, pastries!” Her momma moved ahead quickly like an excited child.
Her brother had already vanished with their cousins on the eternal quest for sweet treats.
Apparently, the farmer’s market was a semi-permanent thing set in several streets of a large neighborhood tract.
No one lived in the homes where the stalls had been set up in the driveways. They were used for cooking and storage.
There were a lot of people moving to and from the many stalls next to the sidewalks, forcing her to move carefully through them.
She was still getting used to her new strength and the last thing she wanted to do was accidentally knock an innocent person to ground by brushing against their shoulder.
Everyone looked at her.
The hood didn’t really hide her horns.
And there was no hiding the unique structure of her legs.
It made her self conscious, but the consolation was that they mostly looked curious rather than horrified or disgusted.
Mr. Cruces had said there was going to be an announcement about her and the others joining the community.
On the one hand, she’d rather not just let everyone know, but on the other hand it seemed to prepare the people for the sight of her.
She had been too scared to leave their new home for the first two weeks.
Her momma had forced her out by sending her down to the store.
She remembered that first time letting random people see her animal-like parts.
It had been practically painless compared to her expectations.
Curious looks and kind smiles.
A few had struck up short conversations, asking questions and welcoming her.
Shouts went up, breaking her from her reverie.
She spun.
The crowd parted as though monsters were hunting through the tall grass.
Just like in the fields near her old home town.
She froze.
Instinct.
Humans froze.
So did animals.
She hoped it was more the former than the latter for her.
Her perceptions sped up. More on instinct than conscious control.
Her powerful legs tensed.
The people around her seemed to move in slow motion.
She studied their faces.
Surprise, but not terror.
She caught glimpses through the forest of bodies.
Kids?
Sliding?
Skating?
Yeah!
Some were wearing skates, some rode skateboards or thin scooter things.
Just like back at her old home.
The reminder made her feel better.
Until she heard her momma scream.
She dropped her bags with a thud.
“Momma!”
She rushed over, concern warred with fear as she tried her best not to just plow through the crowd.
Her momma was— fine. Her momma was fine.
She sighed with relief.
A young man was steadying her momma.
His eyes widened at the sight of her, but he didn’t flinch or look away.
“What was that?” her momma said.
“Stupid kids being stupid.” The young man shrugged. “Apparently, it’s fun to steal food.”
“Momma, did they rob you?”
“I— yeah,” her momma’s head sagged, “I bought us a pair of honey cakes.”
“Miss?” the woman at the pastry stall waved them over. “Here.”
Four cakes went into a brown paper bag.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have anymore points right now,” her momma said in a small voice.
“On the house,” the woman smiled.
Most of the items were super cheap.
Heavy bags of food had cost them less than 50 Universal Points.
The bags!
She rushed back only to find an older couple carrying them to her.
“Wow! You’re strong!” The man nodded appreciatively.
“Thank you so much.”
“No worries!” The woman waved as the pair returned to their shopping.
“Does this happen a lot?”
“Nah, not really,” the young man said. “Every few months a group of kids gets bored and gets stupid. Nothing major and no one really gets hurt. They get caught and get their lessons. Every time. You’d think the next batch would get the message, but kids are dumb. I was once one, so I know!” He grinned.
The experience was somehow reassuring.
Speaking of lessons, these children were lucky in a way, on account of their erstwhile ringleader.
The short rise and fall of a would be bandit lord was a footnote in the history of a great and mighty hero and ruler.
She who gave the famed rangers their name.
Jes, a young boy of 12, going on 13, skated across the rough asphalt on his bare feet. He had to slowdown to avoid leaving the rest of his gang behind him.
He pumped his legs and executed a hop turn to face his gang.
He smirked and took a bite out of the honey cake.
He threw his arms out wide, preening for attention.
The new power was awesome!
It made him so cool.
He had only had it for a couple of weeks and he was already doing cool tricks.
He did a twisting back flip to get his feet pointed back to the front only to suddenly float off the ground.
Oh shit! I can fly too!
He pumped his fist.
Then realized that he was looking at a pretty woman hovering about fifteen feet off the ground, incidentally, so were he and his gang.
One of his gang squeaked.
“Oh no! Miss Rayna!”
The black-haired woman craned her head to look past Jes.
“Is that you, Alyx Tran? Long time no see. I think the last time, you were half as big and twice as law-abiding.”
Oh shit!
This was Rayna of Rayna’s Rangers.
“You guys are all in so much trouble.” She focused her glare on him. “But, you, Jesus Morningstar are in extra trouble.”
“That’s not my name,” he muttered.
“Oh?”
“It’s ‘Geesus’ not ‘Heysus’. Go ahead make fun of me.”
“Why would I do that? Your name is your name.” She regarded the lot of them. “Alright, we’re going on a short flight to the nearest SCSDF station where your legal guardians will be contacted and punishment will be handed out. Going to be a lot of cleaning and wind sprints in your immediate future.” She glared at him. “Since you’re special you get extra.”
“What’d you say about me?” Jes glared right back.
“You’ve got powers. That requires more. Have to make sure they aren’t a danger to yourself and others. And there’s the training in how to use them responsibly.”
“You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to. That’s the rules.”
“Not if you want to keep living here. And you’re a minor, so you can’t really choose, can you? That’s up to your parents. So, Jesus. Say goodbye to your free time. And good luck. Your trainer is a real hard ass. And don’t think we’ll go easy on you just because your parents were rangers and your siblings are.”
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Southern California, 2048
The dream welcomed Alin back like the baby blanket that he had slept with for far too long than he would ever admit.
Cold gray fog rolled in from the bay while he stood in what looked like a huge port.
Giant shipping containers were strewn haphazardly around him, while immense shadows hidden in the thick gray rose and fell with ocean.
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Figures moved violently around him.
Not visible or even shadowy, he only knew they were humanoid from the shapes they made as they displaced the gray.
He had known great fear after the dream had repeated several times, but his dad had allayed it.
The dream was just a dream, not the work of a nefarious outsider.
His fear became mundane.
An instinctive reaction to what he took to be monsters in the fog.
That too faded as the months passed and the dream repeated more frequently.
In recent months the creepy whispers slowly turned into distinct voices.
Scattered conversations in the gray between humans, just like him.
Some he recognized, most he didn’t.
It was normal for one’s dream to be populated by the people they knew in real life.
That was what his parents had said, which he had confirmed by checking with his friends and even a book on dreams from the library.
“I’m… going… man… grandma—”
“… don’t… problem.”
Alin heard a sound like a shot from his dad’s ridiculous hand cannon.
The fog rippled through and around him as a sudden, powerful wind almost knocked him over.
Metal squealed.
“Sorry… cousin, but… only times… control… just floating… void—”
There was a loud thud, which reminded him of the sound his mom’s boots made whenever she landed from a great height.
“Right… embarrassing… I forgot…”
The voice was light with the easy going insolence of his Uncle Eron.
Alin moved to another place.
Although, to call it movement wasn’t right.
One moment he was at a port.
The next he was floating over a building-lined street.
The gray was just as thick as it was at the port.
Old, abandoned cars lay scattered on the street like boulders at the base of fog-shrouded mountain.
Something huge barreled down toward him like a landshark surging through the surf.
He heard noises like before.
The voices were loud while the rest were faint.
He thought he caught the sound of a roaring engine and snarls.
“Are you… throw… off!”
The familiar whine of magic bolts carved channels through the gray. They emanated from the huge shape he took to be a large vehicle of some kind.
“… watch those pointy fingers of yours!”
A woman’s familiar voice, but sounding much younger if it was who he guessed it was.
“Well, drive better… hold on so tight… think I don’t… take the opportunity to get rid of—”
Deep booming barks, dog-like, but off in the way that indicated monsters or mutated animals.
They were silenced abruptly by wet squelching sounds. Followed by what sounded like a tongue lapping up milk.
“Jesus—”
“What?”
“… slurping from in here!”
“You should be… graceless cow— monsters… tearing you…”
“… two… stop and focus!”
His uncle again… probably.
Alin moved through the gray like he knew exactly what he was doing even though he didn’t.
He was inside a skyscraper from the view out the window, dark gray fog notwithstanding.
He was also back on the streets.
Voices moving down the stairwell.
Did he recognize some of them?
The formless shapes moved through the gray in a manner that reminded him of his own training with the rangers.
A huge shape, impossibly long, undulated above the ground, swimming through the skyscrapers like a sea snake through a coral reef.
Thunder cracked!
His grandfather?
Growling, snarling, transforming.
Claws swiped and teeth savaged.
A sword carved through the gray with perfect precision.
An oddly shaped building loomed in the gray.
“Nothing in the desks.”
The voice of his father.
“Look with your eyes.”
The voice of his uncle.
A bright yellow-gold sigil suddenly appeared in front of him.
Unlike everything else in his dream it was starkly clear in the gray.
His heartbeat spiked.
When the hazy gray had been comforting, the light scoured.
He went elsewhere in an instant.
“Fuck me…”
“… judging by the wiener it’s a boy—”
Alin found himself cradled in thin arms.
It took him a moment to realize that the rapid thumping wasn’t coming from his chest.
The dream ended suddenly with utter devastation.
Buildings tore asunder as a second sun blazed in the sky, scorching the gray from the city.
Alin lay wide awake for what seemed like hours before he decided to screw it and get out of bed.
The sky outside his window was still dark.
Good thing it was a rest day.
He took his glasses from the charging bay on his desk and studied the newest upgrades to his power armor.
He was supposed to write in his dream journal, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.
Breakfast was an awkward affair.
His parent’s kept eyeing him with concern.
“I’m fine, guys. Just couldn’t sleep.” He chewed on a slice of bacon mechanically.
“You’re face looks like a raccoon,” his mom said.
“Same dream?” his dad said.
“Yup.”
“Things getting clearer?”
“Nah. ‘Bout the same as the last time.”
“Which was when?”
“Three days ago,” his mom answered for him.
“Dunno. I guess.”
He avoided his parents’ eyes.
“Can I see your dream journal later?” his dad said.
“I forgot to write this last one down.”
“I see…”
“I don’t know if I need to keep doing it. I was looking at the last couple of entries and they’re basically the same.”
“Details matter.”
“Let’s not talk about this right now.” His mom regarded his dad. “He looks exhausted. We can talk about it later.”
“Or not at all. I don’t know why you don’t just stop them,” he muttered.
The tone was more accusatory that he had intended.
“I’ve explained why I can’t just ‘fix’ it. Dreams are a natural part of the human conscious and subconscious. Sure, every once in awhile it’s okay to ease the nightmares for therapeutic purposes, but too much tampering isn’t good for you in the long run.”
“Would be just nice. Is all I’m saying.” He shrugged.
“So, Boy,” his mom began with a smile, “have you made your decision yet?”
J.R.R.P. was almost done.
Two years, well, one year and one quarter for him, had gone by so quickly.
He was going to have to choose soon.
He glanced at his dad.
“Nothing’s changed. I’m not going to put you on a team right away. Maybe not even for a few years. You’ll be a technical adult in a few months, but that doesn’t mean you’ve got an automatic slot. There’ll be a lot of training with the teams, but if you want ‘real’ action. You won’t get it right away.”
“That doesn’t matter as much to me anymore. I’m probably never getting a class or powers.” He pouted.
“You’ve got several years to go until physical maturity and we don’t know if that actually matters,” his mom said.
“Yeah, but do we know anyone that didn’t get a class or powers by my age?”
“There’s a first for everything,” she smiled warmly.
“Yeah, but why does it have to be me?”
Man, he sounded like a whiny Lera.
With his eyes focused on his plate he missed the look his parents exchanged.
“Sometimes the answers you want and need don’t come until you’re ready,” his dad said.
His mom came over to wrap him up in a tight hug that was almost as comforting as the gray blanket in his dream.
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re our Boy and that’s the only thing that matters to us.”
His dad joined his mom in wrapping him up.
“Patience. Don’t be in such a rush to grow up. The world isn’t going to leave you behind.”
Oh god!
His eyes started to water.
What the fuck!
He took deep breaths.
Keep it cool. Keep it cool. Keep it cool.
His parents released him after what felt like a long time.
“So, today’s a day off,” his mom ventured, “any plans?”
“Going to hang with Kat. Oh, yeah… I’m not going to come back tonight since we’ll be out late. Is it cool if I just spend the night at Aunt Rayna’s?”
“Did you already ask her?”
“I’m going to if you guys say it’s cool.”
“That’s fine,” his mom said.
His dad regarded him with that familiar look of ball-busting mischief.
“I’m also okay with it. On one condition—”
“C’mon, Dad! Every time!”
“What?”
“You know ‘what’! Yes! I won’t forget protection!”
His dad chuckled, while his mom rolled her eyes.
“It’s getting old, Love.”
“Yes!” he pointed at her. “Thank you, Mom! It’s a good thing there is at least one adult in this household.”
“It’s a lonely existence,” she nodded sagely. “I’d be looking forward to not being outnumbered by man-babies if it didn’t mean my baby boy’s growing up.” Her eyes grew misty.
“Look what you did.” His dad gave him flat look and shook his head.
----------------------------------------
Canada, Near the Arctic Circle, 2049
Alcaestus strained against the immovable force pressing down on his chest.
Had he ever experienced a greater indignity than having a human half his size holding him down with one tiny foot?
“We seek parlay!”
He managed to squeak out with what little air remained in his lungs thanks to the weight of a mountain compressing his chest.
“Setting a trap is a weird way of showing it.”
Al glanced at the blasted environment around them.
Trees and grass burned with fires.
Craters dotted the landscape.
Eidolons filled some like the bloody golden yolk in the center of an egg.
“They’re still alive… for now.”
The pressure eased a fraction.
“I’m going to ask questions. You’ll answer. Understand?”
He clenched his jaw.
The indignity of—
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“What’re you doing with these losers?” The man radiating the heat of a sun gestured toward the other eidolons. “I recognize a couple. Survivors from previous fights. Different teams from the one you’re supposed to belong to. The rest I only know secondhand. Unlike you and your team, they didn’t want to make reasonable agreements or they went straight to atrocities against my world’s people. Kinda like that one guy on your team that got killed.”
“We sought to invite you to, perhaps, come to an agreement.”
“Which is?”
“That is not for me to state. Sunor’s Will is strategos. It is her you will speak with.”
“Yeah… no. Not interested. Like I told your hawkpersons every time they wasted my time. So, your strategos whatever, she picked up these strays?”
The other eidolons were in varying states of injured.
They were all unconscious, battered and bruised with at least one limb broken.
He had been spared. If one didn’t account for his dignity.
“Yes.”
“Hmm… she has been keeping them under control. You all fought in the Wendigo War.”
Al didn’t hear a question in the man’s words.
“Doesn’t make up for the shit they pulled. But, there’s that agreement and I can’t just kill them. Although, self-defense killing is technically okay. And as we know, technically-something is the best kind of something. Then again, they’re defenseless right now. So, there goes self-defense. But, you did attack me—”
“It was the only way to approach!” Al protested. “You didn’t listen to our attempts to gain your attention.”
“I ignored the big magic letters and arrows too. That should’ve been answer enough for you losers.”
Al remembered trying to pull the relentless one to him with the power of gravity Adras had granted him.
He remembered the annoyed look on the Earthian’s face.
The next thing he remembered was waking up inside a deep crater in the snow-covered ground several hundred meters from where he had been standing.
The other eidolons had already been broken and craterized before the Earthian appeared over him in a blur and sent him spinning back toward them like a stone discus.
That was how he had ended up with a boot on his chest.
“This is your last warning. Don’t bother me. I’m not interested.”
“But, perhaps, Sunor’s Will has something you want?”
“Which is?”
“I am not privy to that information.”
“Yeah. No. I’m not walking into a trap. Whatever you have, I don’t need it. And if you can’t tell me now, then its a moot point. No more talk. This is the last time. Next time I won’t hold back.”
Thunder boomed and wind roared.
Nearby trees bent.
The shockwave pushed Al deeper into frozen dirt and hurt his ears.
The relentless Earthian wasn’t even visible in the sky.
“The pantheon will not accept such indignity forever.”
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Use the opportunities to gain the strength to triumph over the invaders.
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